A Promise
by TheClosetedFan
Summary: Promises are meant to be kept, wherever you go or however you change.
1. Vows are Eternal

Promises are always meant to be kept; Mother had always told me that. When it was just the two of us, anything could come up as a topic. There was no embarrassment, or hesitation, bred from the leery eyes of judgment around us. I was seven, and I asked why my friends cried when I said I had no father. Mother said that he simply didn't want to stay. He left. Simple. What was also simple was the promise that came afterwards: as long as she lived, she would never leave me. I find myself reflecting upon this particular conversation often, question my obsequious fawning over my mother day after day. Other say it's unnatural for a girl my age to be so connected to her family, unwilling to burst out the door the second I'm free. Is it because in those quiet little apartments, it was only us, and it's hard to leave the person I love the most some days? Or maybe it's because reality- the outside world- is a sick place, and it terrifies me because I am too clean?

Maybe. Mother isn't clean enough, so she's been infected. It manifests itself as a florid red, or tears, or a mood shift, all from a little teeny tumor in her body. I wanted to be a doctor one day so I could save her, but I can't cut precisely, or wrap my head around the more difficult aspects of biology. Doomed to failure, I guess, just another prophecy fulfilled. The prodigal child returns home empty.

Inside my somber room lies an illuminated screen, sitting on the desk next to my bed. I'd attempted to lure Somnus to my bed, only to lie rejected, in and out of an exhausted consciousness. Well, until my laptop pinged- hadn't I shut it earlier? Maybe not. Couldn't seem to remember much lately. It's almost too much to slide to the bedside and retrieve my laptop, claw it off the desk and read the message on the lilac chat box.

**Taylor:** Are you awake?

No, I'm obviously asleep. Too sleepy to act irritated at this point, though, but thank god I possess enough mental capacity so I don't blurt out a nighttime escapade involving you.

**Me:** Sure. Can't seem to sleep

There. Generic enough.

**Taylor:** Me neither. Just finished an essay for AP Lit, mind won't power down. you?

**Me:** General insomnia. How was your day?

**Taylor:** Good, busy day at work today. Had a sale on meat. And your day, sunshine?

**Me:** Much better after talking to you. And after that ibuprofen.

Aha! Caught you. At least I didn't start something too embarrassing, like calling you 'dear', or 'honey'. I think my hints might have been too bold at that point, nor would you be able to reciprocate.

**Taylor: **That's great… Hey. Quick question.

**Me:** Shoot

**Taylor:** Well, I was wondering… Have you ever wanted to escape? Just…. don't have to livehere anymore?

**Me:** Lol. Well, yeah, I have. It's not like there's some magic portal, though

**Taylor:** Are you sure?

**Me: **What's this about?

Weird. Not like her at all to just bring this up out of the blue. Taylor needs concrete proof for anything she tries, not some freak on a blog telling her that sunshine and water will be her food on the path to enlightenment.

**Taylor:** There's this rumor going around school and work that if you sleep outside on a hill on a full moon, then your dreams will be more vivid.

Really? That's it? No voodoo rituals or other such drivel? I consider briefly just telling her that only the power of suggestion is at work here, but decide against it. We all need something to cling onto.

**Me:** Why don't we try it then?

**Taylor:** Excuse me?

**Me:** Pack up Espie and we'll both do it

**Taylor:** But how will I know if you do the ritual?

Well then. Never has she been quite this distrustful before. I've always done my best for her: been a good friend, lent an ear, made her presents- especially the Espeon doll she so adores.

**Me:** I promise I'll do it

God help me, I'd do anything for you.


	2. Drip Down Dream

So, the next day, after the monotonous scholastic mediocrity that was my morning, I decided to tell William about my promise. We met up inside the secret base (read: art supply room), sneaking in with our lunches to discuss our days and upcoming projects. Amidst the row of paint and pastel Will and I sat, just enough to block us out from any unwelcome eyes. If either of us leap up too powerfully or quickly, though, we'd be battered with anything too close to the edge- thankfully pallet knives were not among the potential hazards.

We'd just begun eating our respective meals when I decided that my slightly ridiculous promise to Taylor should be mentioned; I was worried how I would execute my plans. By myself, I had no chance of even leaving my room. However, if Will was aiding me on my quest for the fair maiden's hand- I mean Taylor's gratitude, there would be an unmistakably higher percentage of success. Plus, we were alone now- really the only time in our busy schedules- and I could best persuade people when all their attention was on me. The cards were stacked in my favor.

Now, mind you, William is one of my oldest, most cherished friends in the whole wide world. If I was sprinting down the street while on fire, he'd put out the flames, even if he had to use his own blood to do so. So, etcetera etcetera he platonically loves me a lot a lot. Thus, I did not expect the first words to come out of his mouth to be," The hell are you smoking?"

"W-well", I stammered," A friend of mine asked me to do this for her. So she didn't feel like an idiot- not that it _isn't_ absolutely a pedantic and worthless exercise, but—"

Will interjected, "Then what is it? You're lying out in cold weather, alone, on a hill. What about your Mother Dearest? She'll flip her shit and lock you up forever."

"I made a promise."

"You're not serious. No. I forbid it."

"I. Made. A. Promise."

Sensing his eminent defeat from my iron-clad argument, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine", Will growled, rolling his lip between his teeth, "What time?"

There- his throat was bared! Smirking a little, relishing the moment, then I went for the kill. "The exercise itself begins at"- dramatic pause-"midnight. However, leaving at ten and biting the bullet would be best. Least suspicion I could have left if they just saw me enter my bedroom, right?"

Will inclined his head slightly, but furrowed his brows just before going into a full blown nod. "I suppose it would be a good plan", he murmured," but how would we get to a hill? Most of 'em are covered by roads, and I figger that the nearest hill is fifteen minutes away by car. By car. Walking would take us forever, especially with your nubby legs."

"Excuse me?"

"They're tiny. Haven't you looked in a goddamn mirror lately?"

"Don't. Just… Just continue."

He huffed. "Very well then. Any ideas how to get my rusty-ass truck there? I'm trying my best here to make this scheme work."

"Hey! I know, I know!" By this point, I was bouncing slightly around on the floor. When he heard the ominous rattle of lethal art supplies, though, Will placed his hand on my head and held me down, much to my dismay. Happy dances were always so wonderful…. "You could park in the cornfield a couple of houses down! Then they won't see the lights or anything! And when I go to the window to 'open' it, I'll sneak down with my trusty escape rope, and be out of there in a flash!"

Finally, a glimmer of approval hit Will's face; thank goodness we lived on the edge of civilization, or the plan would have imploded. Satisfied with my explanation, he dug right back into his delectable lunch of Caribbean potatoes, which, compared to my meager salad, struck chords of envy within me. It's a mess of carbs, I thought, a disgustingly horrific mess of carbohydrates that'll make you so fat. Fat fat fat and then you can't fit in your swimsuit. Unless you have a bite. Maybe I'll ask him to make just the teensiest weensiest bit for me later, so if I eat a little I won't binge later. Wait, did he notice me staring?!

"You know", he thoughtfully spat out during bites of that beautiful dish,"you can have a bite."

I nearly cried, but promptly was engrossed in the joy that was Will's homemade Caribbean potatoes. The amount of habanero, red and black peppers, thyme, and allspice was perfectly proportional to the buttery goodness of well-boiled tubers. My toes curled, my mouth sang, and all was right with the world in that moment. Well, until Will interrupted me. "Maya, you can have the rest of this if you really want it."

I stared at him, then glanced at my dejected, wilting salad. Again. And then again. Remember, girl, do the diet. Fit in the swimsuit. Be happy in your own body.

"Can I have another bite?"

Will laughed hysterically as he gave me his lunch.

We made quite a pair as he walked me down the town's quiet streets. One tall, one short. One pale, one tan. One blonde, one coal-haired. One boy, one girl. One walking, one running. God, there are some days I hate inheriting the genetic combination that made me into the perfect Mexican girl. Or Asian, if you live out this far and can't tell the difference.

The afternoon sun was gently shining down, with a soft breeze caressing our backs to ward off the heat. The weather had been awful the past few weeks; unbearable heat matched with violent thunderstorms made no man happy. In all, it was… Indescribably nice. Thinking back about my day (and what a pity it was that there was school), suddenly it hit me- I forgot to tell Will more about the plan itself.

"Hey", I said, nudging Will out of his own trance and prompting him to wipe for drool, "I forgot to tell you the specifics."

"What specifics?"

"Well, I did some research on what Taylor wanted me to do, as she was rather vague that night- she must have assumed I'd heard of this rumor. Apparently, on a moonlit night, you must go out to a secluded hill, away from distraction. On this hill, you must fall asleep by midnight."

"Isn't that kinda stupid?"

"Hush! I haven't even gotten to the important part! As I was saying _before_ I was interrupted, while you fall asleep, you have to focus on one wish you desire with all your heart. Then, the spirit of the moon will come upon you and grant this wish!"

Will stared. His eye twitched slightly, and I could see he had second thoughts about this little adventure. I backtracked quickly, and lied, "But, y'know, it's not like I believe this or anything. We'll just go up on a hill to please her."

"You're doing an awful lot for someone that can't even see what you're doing."

"Yes, but silly Willie, there's nothing worse than letting someone down. Besides", I hesitated," It would make her feel better. Her life's been pretty rough lately."

We lapsed back into silence, uncomfortable with the information I had put out there. Will hadn't really wanted to know, but I guessed it was necessary to at least hint to him part of my purpose. Otherwise, his overly cautious nature could have been a problem. However, if we did it to make someone dear to me (and indirectly, dear to him), happy, then there was a better chance his heart would melt, and he'd accept doing the weirdass liturgy I just described more easily. His face spoke of his new intent; a slight squint and a more benign glint to his steely blue eyes told me that we were really, really going to go through with this…Madness…

I couldn't really call it that, though. The online forums listed anomaly after anomaly: the soft, feminine whispers, the violent shakes, the strange dreams of monsters and mass destruction. It wasn't the run of the mill pleasure dream, of raining cats and talking dogs. No, this was the real deal- my gut told me it wasn't just some fool crying wolf. I wondered, however, past these white picket fences, groomed dogs, and impeccable lawns, if there was something we were all missing. A broken circuit in the human soul that stopped us from realizing the world hidden behind the material reality.

That night, after a delicious dinner of stuffed peppers and macaroni-n-cheese casserole, Mom and I did the dishes together. Usually we end up talking, but tonight our conversation was as lukewarm as the air; was I missing something? Perhaps she'd seen a bad grade of mine, or I'd really blown that government project. Mom whipped her head quickly to check that my brother was deeply entranced by the reruns of Mickey Mouse before tilting back to me. Yet, I didn't see the anger or anxiety that I thought would be in her eyes, but fear. What?

"I love you", she began, and choked softly." I love you very much, sweetie."

"I love you too, Mom". I was too afraid to say anything else.

She stepped forward, and encircled me with one of her arms. "He's coming."

"What?"

"Your father. He's coming here. T-to see you. We… Talked it out, and both of us decided that you should meet him. He'll come with his parole officer, and then you can finally meet your father."

No words could express my fury-my father? The man who abandoned us? What about Dad? The man who had always looked out for us, the man who loved me just like his own son, my brother? I couldn't help myself. "No."

"Maya, what did you say?"

"I… I said no. He can't come here. He isn't allowed in this house."

"Maya, it'll be perfectly safe. You were curious about him your whole life-"

"I HATE HIM! He'll destroy everything we worked for!"

Glancing over, I saw Mom's tears raining down her cheeks. "I love you", Mom wheezed," And I only want you to be happy."

"…. I love you too."

And with that, I went up to my room, and cried too.

I should have been downstairs, smiling a false smile and trying not to cry with her. All I could focus on, though, was my father, the faceless monster in my mind. I could get rid of my anxiety and lack of an identity. I could be the crutch my stepfather-no, Dad, was for my mother.

Yet, the most I could do was wipe away the tears while I texted Will 'Tonight'.


	3. Funk Never Dies

Sneaking out of the house was easier than I had originally thought.

Mom had gone to bed early that night, before even I did, and my little brother Noah didn't fuss once as I fumbled my way up the creaky staircase to my room. Even Sir Fluff, my loyal dog with his baseball-bat tail, made not a sound in my room. I was still undeterred from being as sneaky as possible- but it was as though nothing could stop me; walking out the front door and slamming it was a distinct possibility. Everyone was totally knackered- even Noah was snoring. Well, maybe not Dad… He'd be lonely in that hospital room. Anyone would. I was, all those years ago.

Suddenly I had the feeling of being watched. Icy cold fingers raked themselves slowly down my spine and belly, cutting me open to see me from the inside- all the fear and anxiety and shame and rage gushed out like blood, nigh tangible in the air. It was sick, wrong, yet I wanted to laugh. Laugh as it left me, all that I kept in during the day released into a world of moonlight where I could become a capricious creature, hollow with happiness and a wild, bestial hunger. I wanted to devour the world outside, and all of its dangers, spit them back into the respectable farce of society and show each man, woman, and child, show them what they truly were. Human.

As soon as this emotional high came, though, it left, left me high and dry with a lonely chasm in my soul. I had thought that? Had it really been me in this body, or another spirit? I shook my head and turned to the window, wondering if this was all really worth it. Should I jump out of this window, to a night of foolishness, perhaps even travesty, and destroy the trust my mother and I had worked to build? How could I think that! A lapse in judgment, I'd say to Will, and later Taylor. They'd understand me perfectly, how conflicted I was about hurting the family I had left.

The window seductively said '_Come_'. After a moment, I'd barely registered I was halfway across the room, securing my rope tightly to the nightstand adjacent to the window-no, doorway. The knot, for all my fingers and arms shook, came out flawlessly. With the rope in hand, I leapt out. There was a moment, between freefall and landing, that I mentally screamed in terror, as I had just _leapt_ out of a second story window. The same spirit from earlier, though, possessed me, and the world started phasing out as I surrendered, letting the inhuman beast devour my willpower in ecstasy. Though in a flouncing, fluttery pink skirt still stuck on my breasts, hiking the zipper upwards with every step, and a white cowl-cardigan that was half in the breeze, I couldn't have cared if the Pope saw me running down the street, pink lacy undergarments on display. When I dashed through the cornfield and into Will's truck, I noticed he was a similar predicament. His cheeks were flushed, and as he set the truck into the highest gear it could go (which he NEVER did), a manic gleam flashed in his darkened eyes. Before five minutes had passed, we had left our relatively small town. Before seven minutes had elapsed, we were at a secluded hill. Before I could blink, we both stood on the moonlit hill together, face to face, eye to eye. Then, the exhaustion took hold- a freezing bucket of it. Neither of us could stand, or talk, or even shift our heads, though Will had inadvertently rested his on a very sharp rock. We were immobile, totally, when the voice came to us.

_You have heeded my call in our time of need. Come forth and save our world._

The freezing sensation suddenly became more vicious in its intensity, ripping my limbs from side to side. It burned so horrifically, choking the yells and moans of pain in my throat before they could tear into the night sky. The sky- oh my God, what happened to the sky?! It was turning red, blood red, then purple and blue and yellow and green, as the trees around us shot up and stretched themselves into monstrous skyscrapers, the tops hitting the stratosphere. As quickly and savagely as the transfiguration began, it ended. The sky was yet again a dark navy, with stars twinkling mischievously at me, and trees- normal, solid real trees surrounded me. Wait, were there more trees than before? The hill only had one or two baby pines, not hundred year old oaks. If we were on a different hill, then where was Will?

A bolt of panic electrified me into a sitting position, where I found Will next to me, lying down in a sea of moss and grass, still breathing. He seemed to be taking our unusual journey harder than I was, if his twitching eyes were any indication. Thankfully, no wounds were visible, thanks to the illumination of multicolored lights shining on him.

Waitaminute. If we were in the middle of a – a forest, with no towns nearby, why the frig were there strobe lights shining on Will?

My head turned back to its central position, and then I nearly screamed. A massive tree, filled with crystals of rainbow hues stood in front of me, unimaginably tall and thick. At the base, where we were positioned, there was an enormous crystal of blue right in front of our bodies. It glowed slightly, with a gentle warmth emanating from its facets, like the heat of another person. There was this inexplicable desire to embrace the crystal, see if it was like a living being like the boy next to me. I knew how unreasonable my thoughts were, yet logic could no longer pertain to the situation at hand. We were in the middle of nowhere, with a mysterious crystal and there were voices speaking in my head. Briefly, it flitted through my head psychosis' age of onset was sixteen to thirty-five. Had I really lost it? Was the pressure of living too much?

_Fear not, child._

Oh yeah, insanity was a definite possibility. The first things the voices are supposed to do are reassure you that you haven't lost your mind.

_You have not totally awakened yet, it seems. This is no dream, nor vision, but reality. Wake your companion; I tell you only the truth._

Glancing over, my hand was poised to roughly shake Will, but I stopped. "How can I trust you?"

_Because I have every reason to protect you. You are my hope to save the world around us. The Pokémon world, -._

"What was that?!"

_It seems as though the name of our world cannot be translated for you. My apologies._

"It's okay, but could you answer this **really** important question of mine? Why did you drag us from our world to—to—whatever the hell this place is called?"

_I cannot trust a soul, besides the other Pokémon of my forest. In this world I am merely a legend, and if my existence was to be revealed, there are no doubts that I could not remain here, peacefully resting and guarding my domain. Thus, I sought you, with your wild heart, your capable comrade, and several others to aid me; Pokemon may only do so much._

"Thank you, I guess. So, what do I have to do to go back home? As cool as this is, I kinda need to get home, and, y'know, take care of some business." Like sucking up to Mom and trying not to upset her too terribly.

_As soon as my will is done. Until then, reach and take two of my leaves. I shall grant you the means to our end…_

Okay. Leaves. Pushing all violently blinking signs of caution that had cropped up away, I grasped two leaves on a low hanging branch and tugged them off. The sentient tree should be happy now. Wait, stop Maya, trees do not talk, you are only enabling the voices—_what_. I had sworn I had plucked off two _leaves_ off this _tree_, but instead I was holding two pieces of plastic—real, honest to goodness Trainer Cards. Both were thin, electronic pieces of technological art, with a clock recording our journey's time, our current monetary balances (in Poke, of course), and pixeled slots for Gym badges, assuming we ever received any and lost the material ones. With the official stamp of… The Kalos Trainer Association? What in God's name was that? As my memory served, there was no Pokémon region called Kalos in existence. With Taylor and her friend Sebille's frightening fan knowledge, I should know. "Um, Miss Tree? What's Kalos?"

No answer.

We were dead. Or, more likely just myself, if the apostasy of my mental state could be supported. Fear lambasted me yet again; what if this was just a dream, or a hallucination? Where could I go to be safe from my own mind? I can't do this, can't fight this ostensible madness and win. I can't.

A demure voice spoke from inside me: Go with it.

But this is madness. Insanity. Unreal, undesirous, unnatural. However, the only way to escape was to… Immerse myself into this. Flitting my gaze back over to Will, I realized that there was no way to also prove this was not real. If two people experience the exact event and report it to be the same, it becomes reality. Perhaps I could not be insane. I could survive here. I remembered how to battle, types, some Pokémon, and I wasn't alone on this journey. The talking tree could be right.

My reverie was disturbed by Will's groggy groans. His green eyes blinked open laggardly as he sat up lethargically, and the first words out of his mouth were, as his sleepiness turned to surprise, were, "Holy shit."

I almost laughed at him. Even if this was a hallucination, it was still perfectly like the Will I knew and loved. "Hey bro", I said playfully," Did you have a nice nap?"

"Oh my god. This is not our hill. Where the hell are we Maya? This prank isn't funny! At! All!"

By now, Will's face had turned a lovely shade of eggplant purple. So he thought I was the cause of this? "Don't you remember the trippy shit that happened to us before we got here? Yeah, absolutely not part of my plan. You were lucky you were too conked out to hear what the tree-crystal-thing told me."

He barely managed to sputter out, "Excuse me?"

"Yes. That glowing tree"-I pointed out-"just told me we're going on a quest to save its world because it can't depend on anyone else to help it. So it behooves us to magically fix everything so we can go home. By the way, here's your Trainer Card, signed by the Timbuctoo Trainer Union Thing."

While it did not help I had nearly reached the point of hysteria as I summarized the last few minutes for Will, what really sealed the deal for him was the cards. Our full names were on both of them, even our lesser-known middle names, with the correct total number of funds in our respective bank accounts and the time we had been present in whatever this world was called. His face changed from violet, to chartreuse, to a sickly white, as the reality of the situation sunk in. After a few moments, when he had ceased to speak, I decided to hoist away the gravitas of the moment. "I guess it's a good thing we've always like Pokemon, right?"

When people turn white, it means they're emetic, as I found out by narrowly dodging Will's vomit.


	4. Falling to Earth

Will finished vomiting, after a few minutes. All of his dinner littered the grass and moss surrounding the enormous tree, and slowly he began to lean back against the tree. His face still hadn't reverted to its normal, healthy shade, which had me worried. Would he continue to be this weak from shock? I needed to get him somewhere safe quickly. If we could use our Trainer Cards, we could at least go into a nearby Pokémon Center, assuming there was one in the vicinity, and at least get a good night's rest. First, though, we'd need to get out of wherever we were. I stepped daintily over a puddle of what was once meatloaf to Will, and wrapped an arm around his back. Funny, he didn't even grumble or chastise me like he usually does. Plus, he's gone limp on me as well. This is more serious than I'd thought.

When most of his bulk was comfortably on my right shoulder, I tentatively stepped into what seemed to be a trail through the forest. It was thin enough for our small caravan, with vines creeping in on the sides, caressing our faces. Any effort at avoiding them was futile. If I moved to dodge a particularly large one, Will's face would be smacked with several smaller, but more durable vines. In the end, I was stuck with having my face slapped by the occasional lengthy growth, trying not to imagine all the Pokedex entries that described carnivorous plant Pokémon that enjoyed snatching unsuspecting prey with innocuous vine appendages. Better yet, what if, in this unknown region, there were threats I was not aware of? It was suddenly clear that every inch of this forest presented a threat to me, in the form of Pokémon, in unstable ground, in potentially deadly flora. A slight sound to my left made me flinch in terror, yet it was only a gentle drip of water that was the noise's source. This entire forest was working me up!

Out of the corner of my right eye, a light flashed. Was it a Pokémon? I froze, afraid to breathe. There had to be a hiding spot somewhere, somewhere in this god-forsaken undergrowth. I had to at least protect Will, in his salient state of paralysis. The light was flashing again, this time more brightly. There were no trees around wide enough to hide either of us, only small saplings near this trail. In desperation, I dove into the solid earth, feeling my jaw rattle with the force of our impacts. The forest surrounding us became eerily quiet, and I hoped to whatever was watching over us that the monster had left already. Just as I was about to get up and attempt to book it, a methodical shuffling to the right prickled my eardrums. My muscles went rigid, holding me up in an awkwardly raised plank as they balanced the sliding weight of Will. Time stopped. The light flashed, bright as the sun, into my eyes.

"Are you whippersnappers okay?"

**Time Break**

His name was Ramos, and he was quite the nice old man. Ramos had heard a rumor about a strange hybrid flower that grew in a certain forest not too far away from Geosenge Town. It was said the flower, instead of having a normal cellular structure, was composed entirely of tiny crystals, and could be used by psychic Pokémon to record events. Of course, he told me this after he had fretted over Will. The little hotel room we had been allotted (read: forced into) in the neighboring Geosenge Town was rather quaint, with a well-polished, antique-flavored bathroom and maybe the comfiest bed I would ever know. It was a little dazzling for me to have an old man who I had barely met buy me and Will a room on a whim, even if he seemed to be a rich old grandpa. Huh, grandpa. I think that term suits him. I would love to be his grandkid, getting spoiled beyond belief. Lying on this bed, those treasonous thoughts seemed not quite so dangerous right now. Ma would forgive me, I guess, and I could have college all paid for, and she'd never have to worry….

Mmhmm? I'm drifting off again, it seems. It's too hard to stay awake on this thing, to make my consciousness indurate. Sleep would be nice, but there's still Will to look after. He's settled down a little, going from the level of zombie to a rusty senior, with a little bit of his natural pink in his cheeks. Funny, it is, when a six foot two hundred pound man is horrified by something you're not. It could be he's too worried about Ana. How could I forget Ana? She's the love of his life, and confined to her little apartment space because she's mostly blind. She would also be much lonelier without him. Their relationship is a little strange lately, I have to say. Will clenches his jaw and his fists more, when he thinks I'm not looking, and stares out the window in school, pointing his gaze toward her apartment. Is being the caretaker too much for him now? Would he be able to back out, when he's promised her his life? Speculation is all I have, but… He agreed to go with me that one night. It's me that's imagining this, I think, but was there a wish he could have wanted something to grant? No. This is Will—_logical _Will—we're thinking about here. He is content with his life, with his dream job, with his porcelain doll girlfriend. If he wasn't he would change it himself, right?

Yeah. Don't doubt him. Will is the resolute rock in a sea of change, Maya. I can't doubt him.

Speaking of which, Will's breathing is petering out. He's asleep now, and I need to tell Ramos. Can't have the old man worried all night. Gradually, I slide across the floor to the doorway, and turn to find the grandpa in question. Ramos' expression is the pinnacle of concern, but my own face seems to soothe his anxieties a smidgen. "How is the boy?" he rasps quietly.

"Fine", is my terse reply.

Satisfied, Ramos nods, then turns away from me to his own room. "Wake me if you need anything", he whispers with a deliberate stare.

I'm too tired to respond, and find myself, in the morning, with drool dripping down my cheek into the soft cotton material over Will's stomach.

**Time Break**

The journey to Ramos' home is uneventful. We're stuck on a train, for most of which I read various maps, travel brochures, and the occasional donated history book I find in the stations' libraries. Ramos, likewise, reads, but instead burrows himself into a Gardener's Digest. Will alternates between reading over my left shoulder and staring off into space, both off which annoy me, though I cannot decide what action does more. Instead of whopping him one unfairly, I decide a better plan is to entangle my fingers through my long, thick hair.

As we approach another forest, Ramos pipes up unexpectedly. "So", he drawls cautiously, "Where are you both from?"

The question is extremely unwelcome. Will noncommittally grunts, and I look away after giving Ramos a please-we-don't-like-to-talk-about-this look. Thankfully, he gets the hint and continues on. "I noticed you kids were trainers. You don't have Pokemon."

Well, this conversation has gone farther downhill. Will ducks his head, and my scrambled brain presents me with an undercooked explanation. "They were taken from us. Didn't see the thieves."

I must be hitting a lucky streak and a half, for Ramos buys my half-assed explanation. He nods thoughtfully, twirling his artfully arranged beard in his hands and humming in contemplation. His face show a mix of curiosity and puzzlement, from what I could observe behind his hands. At least, that's what I think it is. A short pause, and then he begins to speak again. "Well, you whippersnappers", Ramos drawls slowly, in a more apparent accent," Would you be alright going home with me to Coumarine Town? I would like to help you in any way I can. Maybe find your Pokemon."

Oh dear. The lie's getting harder to manage now; if I tell him we don't really want our Pokemon back, we'll be slime in his eyes. "That would be great", I choke out, smiling. "I'm worried, though, that our Pokemon might not come back to us. We just got them, you see, and they haven't really had—had time to bond with them."

Ramos again ruminates over my statement. "If they don't, I'm sure I can help both you and your friend get s'more. The forest near my town's full of 'em.

Mission successful. Asses saved: two. Score one for us, zip for the red herrings. Hey, are we near Ramos' place? Off to the upper left corner of our window, there's a crescent of coast visible already, almost eclipsed by a sea of trees. The beach moves in and out of my focus ever so swiftly, and I can barely tell if it is just a route or a small town. Ramos notices yet again my curious expression, and nods to the unsaid question. I can feel a slight blush and a widening of my eyes, and before I can stop myself I clap my hands together, grinning ear to ear; I'll be catching real Pokemon! My childhood is coming to life! Embarrassment rears its ugly head in a millisecond, and I tuck away my traitorous hands. I'm nearly an adult. I shouldn't be acting like this, for goodness' sake. Ramos grins complacently. "It's alright for you to be a little excited, even though you went through such a terrible experience with those thieves. You're only, what, a pre-teen? Don't be so serious."

What.

_What._

_I'm a what._

A raspy sound to my left startles me, as Will hasn't made a peep the whole ride, yet now he chooses to snicker not quite subtly behind his meaty fingers. So he thinks it's hilarious, now does he? I oughta show him—

"She's about seventeen, you know."

Ramos' jaw nearly unhinges from its socket.

**Author's Note**:

Hi everyone! Nice to meet the Pokémon community here! This is, very obviously, my first story, and I was a little anxious about going ahead with this crazy idea. Tons of people have already done the "insert self into Pokémon world" theme already, so I assumed my story would NEVER get read! But... I got my first favorite! Thank you thank you thank you Storm's Shadow!

Should you be so kind as to read and review this story, it would be awesome for some constructive criticism. I have no clue what I'm doing writing a story, but I will milk this plotbunny in my head for all she's worth. For those that believe this will be a happy story... No. While the games are all sugar and spice and everything nice, I have a hunch that, if the Pokémon world really existed, that in no way, shape, or form would it ever be this kind to its inhabitants (and that isn't marketable to ten year olds). Expect violence. Expect cruelty. Expect rumination in the oddest moments. Expect deaths of characters that you thought would never, ever, actually die. I will do my damndest to make all of you laugh, cry, and beat the screen in anger. Maybe even vomit, though that's not a new reaction that I've elicited.

Love much! Maria.

Oh, and if there are any eligible beta readers out there, would you mind giving me a hand?

Recent update notice- Sorry about the weird time breaks, this document manager does not allow any lines.


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